


If You Think Romance Is Getting Old

by flotsamjets



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Blankets, Domestic, M/M, Mundane, Slice of Life, cuddling but vague, idk what to put here?, if u will, ill add more tags as I go, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flotsamjets/pseuds/flotsamjets
Summary: Assorted prompts I got inspired by. Mostly for runnerchuckler
Relationships: Wilbur "Runner" Conley/Lew "Chuckler" Juergens
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Blanket Hog

**Author's Note:**

> Found a prompts website, went ham, got inspired, bon appetit
> 
> The title comes from the chromeo song old 45s thats been stuck in my head for the past three days

_The fan isn't even on high_ , is what Chuckler first thinks when he wakes up in bed, absolutely covered in goosebumps and practically shivering. 

He opens his eyes slowly. The room is cloaked in darkness, the only light filtering through their sheer white curtains is from the unnaturally bright moon, and Chuckler finds that he adjusts quickly.

He throws his arm to his left and palms at the bedside table for the fan remote, jamming the off button down as soon as he grabs it. He sits up slowly and quietly so as to not jerk him into full wakefulness. If he opens his eyes any wider, he likely won’t be able to go back to sleep. 

Without the fan circulating the already chilly air, Chuckler does find himself warming up. He no longer feels like he’s trapped in the arctic tundra, and instead feels like how he imagines a lukewarm glass of water stuck in the freezer might feel. He rubs his hands down his arms and shudders.

He leans over the side of the bed and scans the floor for the blankets that were definitely wrapped around him when he fell asleep. He starts half-heartedly humming what he remembers from a song he heard on the radio earlier while he and Runner were stuck in a too-small cab driving back from dinner with Hoosier and Leckie. They usually came up from New Jersey for various holidays and get-togethers, this most recent one being for the winter holidays. They spend that first dinner together, leave Leckie and Hoosier alone enough for them to explore and spend money before they have one big dinner when Sid and Ronnie arrive, and then spend the rest of the week all together either going ice skating, mini-golfing, or all over the fancy areas of New York spreading general foolishness, villainy, and laughter. 

Spotting nothing on his side, he leans over the back, grunting with disappointment when he only sees their dog, Hammer, sleeping as soundly as she can while flipped over onto her back and snoring slightly. Chuckler can’t help but be jealous. 

Turning to his right causes him to stop dead in his tracks.

He sees Runner- every inch of him- layered in practically all the blankets they own, swaddled like a fucking newborn. 

_He must’ve gotten more from the closet_ , Chuckler determines. This happened so often they, rather diplomatically, decided to bring their own comforter to bed in an effort to avoid this situation. _Greedy fucker_.

Chuckler sighs. There really wasn’t much he could do about the situation other than wake Runner up or unwrap a blanket, but Chuckler knew he would have more luck trying to wake a rock. Or boulder. The lump beside him definitely more closely resembled a boulder than a small stone, which was a hard thing for a guy like Runner to achieve. 

He’s brought out of his fantasies of rolling Runner down a hill by the sound of the air conditioner coughing and hacking itself to life. Chuckler sighs again knowing this means their room will only get more freezing. It seems that Hammer shares the same sentiment because Chuckler hears her give a huff before the jingle of dog tags and the clicking of nails on hardwood takes him over the edge of the bed again to watch her tiredly amble out the open door. 

He lays himself back down, this time on his side. He gently takes the outermost layer of blanket, thankfully a wooly one on the thicker side than most of them, and covers as much of himself as he can manage. Hoosier just loves to laugh at him in the towels and blankets that are, in Hoosier’s defense, laughably tiny on him, but by god is he going to sleep warm tonight. 

Doing the best he can, and already feeling warmer than before, he wraps his arms around Runner’s torso, tucking his face up against the skin of his exposed neck. The heat almost burns him and for a second, Chuckler worries that he might very well die of heatstroke, in the middle of winter in New York, at the hands of about five blankets. Chuckler is definitely not paying for that headstone.

Brushing the thought aside, he wriggles around and gets comfortable. The blanket on top of his legs is working its magic, and he hears Runner sigh and nuzzle into his pillow. Chuckler places a soft kiss on his nape, closes his eyes, and just breathes as deeply as he can. 

The steady hum of the air conditioner lulls him slightly, and he feels thankful for the way heat can make anyone sleepy. He didn’t bother to check the time, but his guess is anywhere around three- a disgusting time to be awake and conscious. 

He gives Runner a squeeze around the middle and settles into what he hopes to be a nice, deep sleep.


	2. Angel of the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runner oversleeps. Chuckler steals a shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title has nothing to do with this except for it taking place during the morning but i love this song and hate titling things
> 
> Dont ask me why this one is so much longer than the other one i have no clue it just got away from me

Runner was going to be late.

He was going to be so late, in fact, it almost wasn't even worth showing up late instead of not showing up at all, which Runner was deeply contemplating.

It was unfortunate in more ways than one that attendance was required for the class because if not, Runner would definitely be snuggling back into the warm embrace of his bed and slipping into a coma for the next couple of years, at least until someone started to miss him.

He laid on his side, eyes barely open, staring at the clock on their bedside table with as much hate and vitriol as he could muster. He was so late it was almost pathetic. Lew had spread out during the night and now took up approximately two-thirds of the bed, so when Runner finally dragged his bones to bed, he had curled up in a little corner with most of the blankets and passed out.

His night had been… late to say the least. All he had to do was finish one of his essays he had expertly procrastinated on, which ended up taking about four hours thanks to their neighbor (a kindly old lady named Deborah that Lew threatened death to anyone who wronged her) coming around asking for help finding her cat. Turns out that Mister Charming wasn’t actually a mister, and was now a mom. She had gone to the parking lot out back to have her kittens; the worst part was that Lew was still at work and Runner wasn’t about to make some old lady lean halfway into a dumpster to collect a cat and five wet kittens, which resulted in him falling face first into some eggshells and half-melted flip flops. He took a shower, cried a little at how awful his luck was, and buckled down with his essay and some Redbull for the next hour or so until Lew came and Runner deemed the essay acceptable to be turned in.

Then, when Runner had been rudely awoken by one of Lew’s terribly loud sneezes and not his alarm, he knew he was a goner.

He didn’t even bother checking to see if he missed it; he had been so tired last night he must’ve forgotten to set it. Even if he wanted to, there was no way he would miss his alarm- being a track runner in high school had fucked his mind up enough to make him incapable sleeping through anything louder than a whisper lest he miss the morning run.

He must’ve been more exhausted than he thought.

He turned on his back and rubbed his hands against his eyes, getting all the sleepers out. Throwing his arms out to the side, he successfully smacked Lew in the face. He smirked. If he had to wake up, he was dragging Lew into the land of the living along with him.

“Nggh,” Lew grunted. His nose scrunched up adorably and he swatted at his face, mumbling something absolutely unintelligible.

“C’mon, big guy. I’m late and you have errands to run. It’s,” Runner glanced at the clock and grimaced. “Already 11:30 and you can’t sleep until one today since you did that yesterday.”

He then let out a long and drawn-out groan that was purely for dramatic effect and eased himself up to a sitting position, using every single one of his slowly waking brain cells to keep upright. He looked over at Lew.

His bed head was atrocious and there was a drool line from both corners of his mouth. His body was twisted up in a way that definitely looked uncomfortable and his shirt was rucked up, exposing his pale stomach. Runner wanted to plant his face there and never move.

Lew grunted again and smacked his lips a few times, pulling a face. He hummed something and flopped over onto his front, cracking his eyes open just a bit. He dragged himself closer to Runner, wrapped his ridiculously long arms around his shoulders, and, using strength unfit for having just been woken up, pulled Runner back down so he could curl up around him in a tight hug. He was still sleep warm and soft, skin creased from the press of the blankets and sheets and comforters they piled on, and half smiling, even in his sleepy haze. Runner grinned indulgently and carded his fingers through the tangle of Lew's hair.

“We gotta get up at some point,” he mumbled. It was barely loud enough to be heard but in the quiet of their apartment, it felt too loud. “I really do need to show up to class eventually.”

“No, you don’t,” Chuckler replied, smooshed into Runner’s shoulder. He rubbed his face against the skin there and sighed.

“Oh, don’t fall asleep again!” Runner exclaimed, this time much too loudly. He swatted at Lew's face a few times for extra measure and smiled a bit when Lew gave him his fake-angry look. He could hear their dog getting up from the kitchen at the sound of excitement and Runner planned on being long gone by the time she ran into the room and threw herself onto the bed in a flurry of dog tags and shedding fur.

Lew just groaned, long and lazy, and entirely full of shit. “Yeah, yeah I know,” he replied. “Just wanted to see what I could get away with.”

He released Runner from his hold and sat up, stretching his arms above his head. Runner got up from the bed and retrieved his watch from the floor, fastening it onto his wrist. He went around the room looking for various articles of clothing and the spare sock he could use. He had given up on matching socks in the sixth grade.

Lew was also up, having gone to the kitchen to feed Hammer and water their plants. Maybe, if Runner was lucky enough or if Lew was awake enough to pity him for being late, he might even start on breakfast. Lew made a mean omelet, full of onions and tomatoes and cheese and love. His stomach rumbled just thinking about it.

He had his pants on, his socks on, and a sweater in hand, ready to be put on over the shirt he was currently looking for. If he cared a little less, he would have just gone in one of Lew’s shirts, but the kid who sat next to him loved to tease anyone within his sights and Runner had already made that mistake before.

“Hey, when’s the last time we did laundry?” He called out. He threw the sweater onto the bed and began rummaging through their dresser for the second time.

Lew came back into the room. “I think it was last weekend, why?” He had a bowl of cereal in one hand and an inquisitive look on his face.  
“Can’t find my shirts and a swear I washed them recently.” he closed the drawers and turned around to face Lew, scowling. Lew just started laughing

Runner knew he had to look hilarious like this. Grumpy face, no shirt, jeans with the pockets turned inside out, and mismatched socks. He was fighting a smile himself, yet he still planted himself in front of Lew with his hands on his hips, hoping to look one ounce of the imposing figure his mom made when she struck the same pose.

“I’ll help you look,” Lew said simply, once he had calmed down, placing his bowl on their desk.

“Finally! I feared for a moment there you didn’t love me anymore.”

They went around in silence, save for the sound of closing drawers and rustling clothes. Lew took periodic spoonfuls of his cereal and Runner stole a few himself. He wandered into the living area and took a brief look around.

“Have you seen any of my shirts?” he asked Hammer. She stared up at him with her big brown eyes and wagging tail. There was nothing in that head of hers, that was for sure.

He found himself getting more frantic as he looked through laundry baskets and cubbies in the bathroom for at least one shirt. He didn’t even care if it was dirty at this point, all he needed was a shirt- any shirt- to get him through this terrible class that he regretted ever registering for. He slumped back into the room and relief surged through him when he saw Lew, now sipping the milk from his bowl, with a shirt in his hand that was way too small to be his own.

“Oh, thank fuck. I thought I was going crazy and some burglar came through our shit and stole all my shirts, which is weird anyway-” He reached out to grab the shirt when Lew pulled away suddenly and thrust his hand high into the air.

Runner stared at him.

Lew stared back, eyebrows high, bowl still raised to his lips. He slurped.

“I don’t know where you found that because I searched _every_ -” he cut himself off as he stepped up onto his tip-toes, hand braced against Lew’s chest, and stretched up high to try to nab the shirt from Lew’s ridiculous reach.

“ _Where_ ,” he continued with a huff. He stumbled forward and lost his footing as Lew took a quick step back. The bowl was now lowered, but the shirt was still up there on parr with the heavens. There was a smirk on Lew’s face, one that usually came up during competitions, arguments that he was having for the hell of it, and in bed when he knew he had Runner exactly where he wanted him. “And I couldn’t find it. Where was it?”

The smirk widened into a smile and Runner narrowed his eyes. He jumped again, this time with a hand against Lew’s shoulder for an extra push, but still came down empty-handed.

“It’s not fair if you go up on your tippy-toes too!” he whined while Lew just laughed. It started as a rumble but as Runner made more failed attempts to retrieve his shirt, it evolved into a true cackle. His face was practically split in two from how wide his grin was and his eyes gleamed. Soon enough, Runner found himself laughing along with him.

“I’ll give it to you if you can guess where I found it,” was his ultimatum. Runner grumbled out that no, he definitely would not even if Runner got it right, and Lew’s laughter was renewed.

“I promise I will! I promise you the last of those caramel cookies too!”

This began their chase. Runner lunged forward to grab the shirt when Lew’s guard was lowered. Lew’s eyes widened and he thrust the shirt high up into the air again and Runner, with a burst of determination, jumped up onto the bed to make wild snatches for it as Lew kept stepping out of his way at the last second. He pushed at his face with a giant hand and Runner bit at his fingers.

Lew finally turned tail and ran from the room, laughter spreading to the rest of their apartment and Runner could hear his footsteps thudding. He squawked and leaped down from the bed, slipping and sliding and running right after him.

He practically flew into the kitchen, catching a hand around the column and letting the momentum spin him around. They had barely begun this demented game of chase and he was already out of breath. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. There honestly was no point in going to class anymore but the principle of the thing still remained: Runner needed his damn shirt.

He looked into the kitchen and out into the living room. Lew was nowhere to be seen.

But then, neither was Hammer.

Hammer had the adorable and slightly infuriating habit of following Lew everywhere. She imprinted on him like a baby duck from the moment she laid eyes on him and the instant connection between the two was what made them adopt her. She constantly wanted to be around him, and Runner might’ve been jealous if it wasn’t for the obvious fact that she was an animal, and that she also loved Runner to bits and pieces. Sitting on his lap and suffocating him was a favorite pastime of hers.

He whistled a quick tune- four sharp notes- and called out her name.

Sure enough, there was a crash from the direction of the bathroom, a few muffled curses, and the sound of a door being burst open. Her scrabbling claws against the hardwood floor could probably be heard from miles away as she barreled into him, nearly knocking him flat on his ass.

Lew stumbled onto the scene, hair ruffled and eyes wild. The shirt was thrown over his shoulder like a towel.

“She almost pushed me right into the shower with that!” he cried. “If I had brained myself on the curtain rod, you would be paying the hospital bills.”

“I don’t even know what the trouble would be since you hardly have anything up there anyway,” he ignored Lew’s gasp of fake affront and finally- _finally_ \- plucked his shirt off of his shoulder. He looked it over, checking for stains or weird smelly spots while Lew used his socks to slide his way into the kitchen, most likely to feed Hammer. He planted a hand on Runner's head and pushed against it to propel himself forward as he passed.

“Oh,” he said. Runner turned around, in the middle of putting his shirt on.

“Yeah?” he asked. Lew had a bad habit of stopping in the middle of sentences or making strange noises meant to get someone’s attention and then never following through with what the matter was.

“Didn’t mean to actually make you late,” he looked at Runner over his shoulder. “Must’ve gotten carried away.”

Runner took Lew in. He still had his pajama pants on, the deliriously colorful socks that Hoosier had gotten him last Christmas stuck on his feet, and that wild bedhead of his. There was guilt in his eyes that just didn't belong there.

“I saw the time when I woke up and decided I wasn't even going to bother,” he walked into the kitchen after him and wrapped his arms around Lew's waist, planting his face right between his shoulder blades. He stayed there, cheek against his back, feeling every stretch and flex of muscle. They breathed as one, happy to be in each other's space. Runner was half asleep before Lew spoke next.

“You wanna take a nap while I go to the grocery store?” His voice was soft. A bird chirped outside and Runner hummed in thought.

“Nah,” he decided. “I'll go with you and we’ll take a nap when we get back?” He phrased it as a question, leaving Lew the option to say no or maybe later. Once he was up, Lew was up, and it was hard to get him to sleep if the sky wasn't dark. Their curtains could only block out so much light.

“Sounds fine to me.” He simply said in reply. He turned around and put his arms around Runner's shoulders, laying his cheek on top of his head. Runner could feel his hair move with his exhales and it tickled slightly. He leaned into the embrace hummed again, this time long and drawn out.

Lew eventually disentangled himself with a kiss to the top of his head and went to go change. Runner fed Hammer and went to the door to put his shoes on and grab some bags. He looked at the jackets on their hooks and grabbed one at random, pleased when it turned out to be one of Lews.

Lew came back, all put together with hair brushed, and took the keys from the bowl. The sunlight washed over Runner's face the moment he opened the door and he felt slightly rejuvenated. Maybe they could walk Hammer to the park later, have a picnic, or play a game of frisbee together when the sun was going down. Maybe all three at once. A perfect little date night.

Lew looked over at him from the driver's seat and smiled that huge smile of his and Runner decided that maybe, at least for today, he wouldn't need to get his energy from more rest.

He needed to type up some excuse for the teacher to explain why he was absent but in the light of the day ahead and glorious warmth of the outside, Runner couldn't give less of a fuck about anything other than the man sitting beside him.

He smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what u think :’)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if there are any issues :)
> 
> Come talk to me on runnerchuckler on tumblr if you want! Im always up for new friends


End file.
